


The Lion and the Sparrow

by Alowyn Lavellan (OneHundredSuns)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen Has Issues, Drama & Romance, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mages, Mages and Templars, Magic, POV Cullen Rutherford, POV Trevelyan (Dragon Age), Red Templars, Thedas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 11:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13434069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneHundredSuns/pseuds/Alowyn%20Lavellan
Summary: Cullen moved around to the opposite side of the bed. “Inquisitor, do you have any idea why your sister would bear a mark similar to yours?” He gestured to her hand. “It cannot simply be blood relation.”OrThe one where the Inquisitor’s sister shows up at Skyhold and things get pretty interesting for Commander Cullen.





	The Lion and the Sparrow

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will be written as more of a series of connecting one shots; it'll have canon situations and AU situations. Rating will rise & more characters will be added. Thank you for giving it a chance and I hope you enjoy it! <3

The Lion and the Sparrow

Skyhold was an amazing fortress to rival any even though much of it was still in disarray. Entire sections of wall had crumbled back to the Earth, the garden was completely overgrown and Josephine was sure a family of squirrels were nesting _somewhere_ in the room she had picked as her office. Yet the structure itself was magnificent and strong, and would be even more so now that the workers were getting a handle on what needed to be accomplished. But they would have to be careful however and vigilant to avoid bringing harm to themselves on loose tiles and shaky floorboards.

Still caved in towers and weeds aside Cullen felt _safe_ here. Haven had been solid but melancholy especially with the Temple of Sacred Ashes nothing but a smoldering crater down in the valley below. So many bodies had been left behind there, fused to the ground, forever locked in a silent scream that sometimes haunted his numerous nightmares. And then of course were the other corpses littering the pathway; good men and women who’d briefly served under him before being cut down by frightful abominations. Of course none of that brought into account Haven’s bloody history with the dragon cult and sacrifices to a false God.

Some might have thought of the town as holy but he wasn’t sure he could be counted among them. Even the Chantry had seen its own share of dismemberment.

But it had been useful for what the Inquisition needed and in the end protected them in the only way it could; by being used for more death and destruction once more. The soldiers they could spare were there digging and looking for survivors but it was futile. Now it was more about recovering names for the sake of the families left behind.

With a deep sigh Cullen shifted in his chair and allowed his body to slouch. He’d been on high alert since the rogue Templars marched to kill the Inquisitor so it was nice now to be able to zone out for a moment. To have his own quiet space where he could reflect on the day’s events and work without someone constantly bothering him. He still had to train new recruits but thankfully Knight-Captain Rhylen was picking up a lot of the slack, quite happy with his new duties.

It was odd to look back and remember how things had been in the very beginning with everyone fighting them at every turn. The Chantry labeling them Heretics, Lord Seeker Lucius humiliating them in front of half of Val Royeaux and a hostile foreign government squatting on their doorstep, daring them to do anything about it were just a few of the horrible things they’d been forced to contend with. However somehow they’d managed to prevail. While sealing rifts and helping the refuges in the Hinterlands find food Inquisitor Trevelyan had put a stop to the Mage rebellion, invited them into the Inquisition as allies and finally closed the Breach. He’d done so, so much that it was almost baffling to consider there was _more_.

That even now their enemies grew in number. There was still the Winter Palace and Celene to fix—if there was any fixing to it—not to mention Hawke’s missing Warden friend. The Inquisitor would have to decide which he wanted to tackle first and soon, but for now his time was better spent in the Emerald Graves helping Fairbanks find his missing people. From the sounds of the last missive he’d received from Cassandra, they would be finishing up soon and on their way home within a day or two.

Hopefully with some information on where those blasted smugglers were getting their Red Lyrium.

 _Andraste preserve us, when will it end?_ he thought to himself.

Although he didn’t want to think so, Cullen couldn’t help but picture himself as one of those poor Templars now sick from the inside out with red. Some had been forced to ingest it and those he felt for the most. Others who’d eagerly jumped at the chance for more power well, Maker have mercy on their souls he supposed. Before Meredith he unfortunately would have done as he was ordered and took it…. Most likely. Especially if his superiors passed it off as just a _better form_ of lyrium. Maker knows to survive in Kirkwall you needed to be at your best.

When the Kirkwall Templars had first imploded because of Meredith and her paranoia he’d been angry and fucked up and guilt ridden for reasons he couldn’t properly put into words. As terrible as it was to imagine her downfall had probably saved his life, by proxy. Though perhaps it was more decent to attribute that to Cassandra and Divine Justinia.

Cullen shook his head and pushed away the dismal thoughts, reaching for his mug of tea and taking a big sip. It went down pleasant and warm. He was just about to sign off on a scouting mission for more raw materials when the left side door to his office opened with a loud thud as it crashed back into the wall. Had he been anywhere else he would have been on his feet with his sword drawn, ready for battle.

“Commander! Commander!”

Cullen sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, willing a headache not to form. Out of all of the people who routinely came into his office only _two_ didn’t knock; the Inquisitor and Scout Jimion who everyone called Jim. Somehow it never managed to be annoying when it was the Inquisitor.

“What is it, Jim?” Cullen asked with an arched brow. “What has brought you in here so hastily?”

Jim’s big blue eyes stretched wide and he pointed off into the distance. “A woman, Ser.”

Cullen’s brows climbed higher. “A woman?”

Jim exhaled deeply and shifted from foot to foot anxiously. “A woman just made her way up the hill into Skyhold and collapsed inside the gate! She’s wounded and—and all alone. No caravan or anything to speak of.”

Uncommon but not terribly so…many people had began making their way to Skyhold to be closer to the Herald. “I see. Well why come to me with this information? Take her to a healer and try to find a dry place for her to rest.”

Jim shook his head. “She’s a Mage, Commander. I—It would be better if you came and saw for yourself Ser. It’s hard to explain. Sister Leliana has already been informed as well.”

Cullen knew that if Leliana was involved the situation must be interesting indeed. Or dire. Nodding, he stood and followed Jim out of his office and to the side steps that led down towards the tavern. They veered right down towards the stables before making a beeline for the first set of large open gates; he could already make out several figures hunched over someone lying on the ground down near the second.

“Maker’s breath, you could have at least helped the poor woman up.” Cullen snapped, boots crunching loudly through the trodden snow. “She’ll catch her death of cold in the snow like that.”

“I think everyone is too shell shocked to be honest,” Jim replied. “Make way! I have the Commander with me.”

The small group parted and as they grew closer Cullen could see someone had wedged some type of bag underneath the woman’s head for support. She was stretched out on her back, brown cloak damp and tattered, long dark hair sticking to her cheeks and forehead. Her dress was dirty and there was a light red ring around her neck…as if someone had tried to strangle her. Cullen didn’t have to guess who might have done so and it pained him to think of the Order he’d respected so much had now fallen so far.

Templars used to be respected and revered and now they were all but reviled especially since abandoning the Chantry. He understood them wanting to do their duty and fight the rebel Mages but strangulation? If a Mage failed his or her Harrowing, or became possessed they were simply cut down as quickly as possible. Safer for the Templar and with the least amount of pain for the Mage. Wrapping your hands around someone’s throat and squeezing the life out of them wasn’t about being a guardian or doing your duty, it was about rage and wanting to inflict a massive amount of fear onto your victim.

He hadn’t seen anger this severe since Kirkwall…and now there were hundreds of Templars out there experiencing Meredith levels of wrath and mania.

Pushing aside his depressing thoughts, he knelt down and gently checked for a pulse. Her skin was freezing cold but her pulse was strong, jumping steadily underneath his fingers. “Alright. Why was I called?”

“Her hand, Ser.” The young woman who’d spoken was their resident surgeon Gaela; Cullen had brought her up from the refugee camp himself after seeing her set the fractured leg of one of his soldiers.

Cullen glanced to the Mage’s hand and _oh_. Perhaps it was ill-advised but he cradled her hand between his own, noticing how delicate and soft it was. Yet what obviously had everyone so up in arms was the glowing green mark on her palm, cutting a swatch across her life line. It was _deadly_ similar to the Inquisitor’s except not as extreme but he could feel a bit of the heat wafting off of it. 

“You said she was wounded?” Cullen looked to Jim and then Gaela. “I’m assuming you have already examined her and deemed her not terminal considering she hasn’t been moved yet.”

“There is a bloody bandage on the right side of her shoulder. Looks like it’s from a sword so we’re guessing a Templar must have gotten a bit too close.” Gaela replied slowly. “It’s deep but not life threatening, she’s been healing herself or trying to anyway.”

“Commander, what about the mark?” Jim inquired hesitantly. “How does it look like the Inquisitor’s? Does this mean she also walked out of the Fade somewhere? Maybe she’s possessed by a demon!”

“She’s not possessed by a demon.” Cullen rubbed at his scruffy chin. “I may not be a Templar anymore but I’d know. One doesn’t forget their training so easily. I’m not sure why her hand bears this mark but having this conversation out here in the cold won’t benefit anyone.” With that he slipped his arms underneath the unconscious Mage and scooped her up, holding her close as her head lolled back against the fur of his armor.

Very carefully he made his way back inside and to the area they’d set aside as a make shift infirmary. He located an empty tent and bedroll beside the fire and put her down, not too surprised to see that everyone had followed him. Gaela immediately returned to doctor mode and started requesting hot water, healing salve and clean scraps of linen. Cullen folded his arms across his chest to watch, mind working a mile a minute with theories to explain that mark.

Leliana and Cassandra had been the first to interrogate Trevelyan, the first to question the soldiers that had found him as well. They’d stated explicitly that he was the _sole survivor_ of the Conclave and even then he would have died had it not been for Solas. So this woman—whoever she was—should be dead if her mark was anything like his. It just didn’t make any sense.

As footsteps sounded Cullen watched Leliana approach with her trademark curious smirk in place, hands clasped behind her back. “Is this her?”

Cullen nodded.” What were you told?”

She came to a stop beside him. “That a Mage had shown up with a mark like the Inquisitor’s.” Motioning to one of her scouts, she accepted the stained pack she was handed and started to rummage through it. “I will have my agents begin to look into her past and background though I’m not sure they will be able to find anything unless we discover what Circle she comes from. Or…well this makes my job a lot easier.”

Cullen looked at her or rather the folded letters held between her gloved fingers. “I’d say we shouldn’t be going through her personal things but…desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Leliana chuckled. “Come now Commander, we’ve been dealing in secrets since Haven when the situation calls for it, no? We need to know who this woman is and the fastest way is right in front of us. Let’s see…” Breaking the fancy wax seal, she opened the first note and began to skim it. “It’s from the First Enchanter of the Ostwick Circle saying she and the other Mages of Ostwick didn’t rebel but were basically forced to dissolve after the rebellion started. That it wasn’t safe to remain so everyone—Templars included—simply left.”

 _That’s interesting._ “I sometimes forget not every Circle wanted to disband. I suppose he thought this letter would be some type of protection. He never could have imagined how horrible things would eventually become.”

Leliana sighed softly. “None of us could. The Inquisitor is from the Free Marches but I don’t remember any of the mages in Redcliffe saying they were from Ostwick though. Hm.” Putting that letter in her pocket she opened the second one. “Maker’s breath!”

“What?” Cullen asked in alarm. “What does it say?”

Instead of reading it aloud she handed it to him so that he could see it for himself.

_To my dear brother Lucian,_

_I wish that I was writing under better circumstances but everything is in turmoil and time is of the essence. Due to the Mage rebellion my Circle is no longer safe. The Templars have already started leaving, saying that their talents could best be used elsewhere and not babysitting a bunch of “boring” Mages. Yes our Circle has never been a beacon of entertainment but suddenly they wanted excitement…and hunting. So with no Templars and basically no protection we are striking out on our own. Most are attempting to make it home and I thought about doing the same but I don’t think mother and father really have a place for me there anymore. I want to see them and our siblings but…_

_They say you’re the Herald of Andraste. That Andraste herself pushed you out of the Fade and that you survived the Conclave exploding! I do not know whether the rumors are true or not but I plan to find out for myself. I am going to try to make it to you in Haven as soon as I can. Hopefully I can avoid Templars or any other dangers. There is much to discuss, little brother. I will no doubt have tales of my own should I make it to you._

_However I am also the practical sort and there is a real chance we may never see each other again. It is why I am writing. If this comes to pass I want you to know that I love you and that whatever you are doing, I know you are going to succeed. Stay strong._

_Your loving sister,_

_Elisabetta_

“The poor thing,” Leliana cooed. “What must she have thought after hearing that Haven was destroyed? And how long before Skyhold and word of her brother’s continued existence reached her? We saw what the apostates and Templars did to each other in the Hinterlands, as well as the refugees. If any of the Inquisition’s enemies discovered who she was while she was out there alone…”

“She had to contend with much.” Cullen was impressed. “For her to make it this far is quite a feat. However none of that explains the mark on her hand. Surely if the Inquisitor’s other siblings manifested a mark simply by being blood relation we would have heard about it.”

Leliana hummed. “That’s true. Well now that we know who she is I can have my agents researching that. And we can consult Solas once he and the Inquisitor return. We should give her better accommodations than this.” She gestured to the tent. “Besides being the Inquisitor’s sister she is also technically a noble. Without a Circle or Chantry to challenge otherwise I’m sure many noble mages will want their titles and inheritances back. We can put her in the Inquisitor’s room for now while one of the other bedrooms is repaired. I believe the roof in the room above the tavern can be mended.”

Cullen snorted inwardly but not maliciously. Sometimes he just forgot how excitable Leliana could be since he’d very rarely seen that side of her though he supposed it was with good reason. The Breach had put everyone on edge and even before that her work for the Divine had shaped her into more of a weapon of sorts. Yet he could remember a moment in the early days of Haven when he’d overheard her animatedly talking to someone about a Smooples or something and how much she missed him.

“It seems you have everything under control. I shall get back to—”

“Surely chivalry isn’t dead so easily.” Leliana tilted her head to the side with a grin. “Might I request your help again Commander carrying the young lady to the Inquisitor’s room? You did so quite thoroughly a few moments ago. Gaela can accompany you and finish her examination there. In private.”

Arguing that he needed to get back to his reports would be futile so instead he simply nodded and picked up Lady Trevelyan again, this time hearing her make a soft noise of protest. He watched his steps as he ascended the stairs and into Skyhold, drawing looks and whispers from the many curious faces inside. This would be the hot gossip for weeks to come; someone was probably already writing to a relative in Orlais about it and making it appear much more scandalous than it really was.

In truth Cullen had no patience for the political and nobility side of the organization and was very happy to let Josephine deal with all of that rubbish. There was a darkspawn Magister threatening to end the world and yet people were still concerned about fashion and lineage. He could remember some Duke of something actually asking him what _business_ did he have to be a Commander, as if his previous Templar training and rank were some trifle to be glossed over. Thankfully Cassandra had explained in no uncertain terms his merits and Cullen hadn’t seen that Duke again.

Good riddance.

Inside of the Inquisitor’s quarters was nice and warm even with the balcony doors open. The fire was always kept burning even when he wasn’t around, the bed made and the floor swept by the same people who insisted on trying to organize his papers and scrolls.

Cullen placed Lady Trevelyan on the bed and absently brushed the hair out of her face before he’d even realized it. As he did he pulled his hand back as if burned, hoping no one would accuse him of being improper. But only Leliana and Gaela had followed them upstairs and they were too busy removing the Lady’s boots and searching for more blankets. With them suitably preoccupied and his work done, he slipped out of the room and nearly collided with Josephine on the second floor landing. “Maker’s breath!” he exclaimed in surprised. “Luckily you didn’t have your clipboard or I’m sure I’d be missing an eye right now.”

Josephine blushed. “I am so sorry Cullen! But as Ambassador of the Inquisition it is my job to be kept abreast of situations such as these. A stranger showing up _claiming_ to be a relative of the Herald is a big deal. It could start a precedent for others to do the same in exchange for trying to extort some type of favor.”

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. “How did you know she was claiming to be a relative? We _just_ found that out a few moments ago.”

Josephine smiled. “Word travels fast here. In any case most are speculating she is a liar. Some Bard sent from Orlais to spy on the Inquisition…or perhaps even a Venatori spy.” Pausing, she waved a hand. “I however do not see the point in trying to perpetrate such a ruse. All the Inquisitor has to do is take one look at her to identify her.”

 _Good point._ “ I am inclined to believe she is who she claims to be. The better question is why she would risk her life to come _here_ when she could return to her parents’ estate… Though I suppose the Inquisitor’s reasons for making the rebel Mages allies makes more sense now if you factor in this new development.”

“Yes. No doubt he was thinking about his sister when he did so.” She shook her head. “This war has cost everyone so much. I’d…never considered what it had cost the Inquisitor beyond the mark on his hand. I know much about his family and their history as nobles but nothing direct. I will endeavor to change that once he returns.”

“In the meantime business as usual. I will post guards outside of the Inquisitor’s room so that the Lady is not disturbed. Perhaps we can get a healer to sit with her until she regains consciousness. Wouldn’t want her waking up thinking she’s been kidnapped or worse.” He mused aloud. “The Trevelyans certainly know how to make an entrance, don’t they?”

“That they do.” Josephine chuckled lightly. “Is it true that she bears a mark similar to the Inquisitor’s? I must say it would be nice to have another that could close rifts. We could cover a lot more ground that way.”

“We shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves or treat that as anything more than a rumor for now. _If_ her mark is like the Inquisitor’s then she is in danger until Solas arrives to help her. As it is seeing as how it’s been a couple of months yet she still lives, I’m inclined to believe they are different. It is possible she just…got too close to a rift and had some type of adverse affect due to being a Mage.” Cullen rested his hands on the hilt of his sword. “The rifts are causing all sorts of mayhem because of their connection to the Fade. We can’t really be sure of anything anymore…and that worries me.”

Josephine rubbed at her upper arms but he didn’t think it was from a draft. “I try not to think about it that much otherwise I’ll start having nightmares again. So much has happened in such a short amount of time. And we still have to deal with the demon army, the missing Warden and obtaining an invitation to Celene’s ball. It is most tiring yet I am not even out in the field. I shudder to think what the Inquisitor has to deal with when he’s out there. The danger…”

All things considered Trevelyan was handling his new _duties_ better than most. Better than Cullen had assumed he would upon first meeting him. There was a softness to Lucian Trevelyan—a gentleness to his eyes and a deviousness to his grin—but now Cullen knew what he’d mistaken for a type of failing had actually been the Inquisitor’s penchant for wanting to help people shining through. He didn’t need to sneer or puff up like a peacock to prove he was tough or exceptional with his bow. He was confident and thereby able to let his dry sense of humor and helpless flirting—yes Cullen _had_ noticed, Maker’s breath—sit at the forefront. Honestly Trevelyan reminded him quite a bit of Hawke in that regard. She’d had a smart quip at the ready more times than he could remember.

Cullen replied, “The Inquisitor has assembled a wonderful team to watch his back while he is out in the field. Cassandra alone would throw herself at whatever tried to harm him and if the last report is correct, Dorian is always there to explode whatever comes near him. I hear he’s even brushed up on his knowledge of barriers. They’ll be fine.”

Exhaling deeply, Josephine nodded. “Hopefully with the Maker’s blessing they will be. But I should go and see this Lady Trevelyan for myself. Her parents will eventually have to be contacted and I know Leliana will want to send someone to the Ostwick Circle for information on her, if she is a true Mage or just an apprentice, that sort of thing. But at least this should go smoother than that unpleasantness with the cow.”

As she headed up the stairs Cullen snickered to himself and continued down until he was in the throne room. Through the gorgeous Serault windows he could tell the sun was beginning to set but no one seemed inclined to retreat to their rooms. In fact he could tell a few were just _dying_ to probe him for answers so with that in mind he adopted a rapid strut towards the massive front doors, only nodding to the people that addressed him.

Moments later he was entering the safety of his office and closing the door behind him, leaning against the sturdy wood. He was tempted to lock it but ultimately decided that would be foolish; most of Leliana’s agents knew how to pick locks anyway.

His chair was filled with random books and scrolls outlining skirmishes and soldier formations but he dumped them all to the floor and flopped down, rubbing at his aching temples. The candle on his desk flickered and for a second he was lost in the dancing of the yellow flames, transported to a room he’d rather forget existed. A room of darkness and death where he was kept for days without food or water, tormented mercilessly with images he’d never out run.

With phantom touches he could still feel and fresh blood he could still smell. It all stuck to him like thick spider webs, dug deep into his mind and flared whenever he closed his eyes.

_“Cullen…why didn’t you help me? Why did you let the demon take me? Why didn’t you save me?”_

_“Cullen, I came back for you. We can be together just as you’ve always dreamed, my love.”_

_“Cullen…touch me.”_

Loud laughter a few yards away snapped him back to the present and he shuddered, his hands shaking so badly they were nearly useless. “Shit. _Shit._ ”

Cullen gripped the edges of his desk and focused on his breathing, telling himself over and over that he was fine now. Or that he was at least not _there_ anymore and never would be again. Now…if only he could escape the memories of what he’d been forced to endure. Other people would probably say the bad things helped shape the person you were just like the good, but those horrific scenes from his past had done nothing but turned him into an angry bastard that judged an entire group of people based on their designation. Mage.

At this point in his life he tried to see everyone as an individual but it wasn’t easy. The apostates attacking anything that moved appeared to just prove what he’d come to think of as true. That Mages were dangerous creatures and could never be trusted or left to their own devices. A myth dispelled many times over but a rough idea to shake when you’d experienced what he had. Yet now he could say the Templars weren’t any better. Or the Chantry or anyone really.

_This world is filled with terrible people who rejoice in doing terrible things. It makes me wonder why we are trying so hard to save it._

“Because there are good people too. Decent people,” he said aloud. “I just have to remember that.”

With that in mind he threw himself back into his work; anything to keep busy. Anything to keep the waking nightmares away.

Alright.

So far the Hinterlands were fairing well now that the rebel Mages and Templars had been cowed. Red Templars and lyrium smugglers were a moderate problem but they tended to leave the common folk alone as long as they didn’t get to close. The refugees had enough food and would no longer freeze to death, and commerce had tepidly returned to the area. Most of the rifts were closed and apparently Solas’ Elvin devices were working well to strengthen the veil.

Cullen didn’t know if Arl Teagan had returned home or not but his nephew Connor was currently sulking about the gardens because he found them peaceful. King Alistair had already returned to Denerim. It was odd to think of him as King when last Cullen saw of him; he was going off to fight an Archdemon with the Hero of Ferelden. He remembered hearing about Alistair’s coronation and subsequent marriage to his fellow Warden, finding it odd they could settle down for a happy ending after what they’d seen. It was due of course just…how did one forget?

Perhaps—perhaps love figured into the equation somehow.

Anyway their soldiers had been rescued from the Fallow Mire a few days before and were steadily making their way towards Skyhold. They’d even acquired some Avaar agent and banished his Clan to Tevinter in what was truly a brilliant tactical move on the Inquisitor’s part. The Mire had some rare herbs that could be used for healing but it was the birth place of a plague so he would be remiss to send his soldiers out scouting. Maybe Leliana’s agents would fare better? He’d consult the Inquisitor about it the next time they were all gathered around the war table. 

Their influence grew more and more every day in Orlais and Ferelden. Idly he wondered what they would be by the time this was done. And what would come afterwards when the Red Templars were dead, when there were no more rifts, when Corypheus was truly defeated? Where would he go? What would he do if his services were no longer needed? Become a farmer or something else trivial? Part of him thought it sounded nice while the other shivered at the very thought. But that was a long way away and it didn’t do to dwell on the maybes.

Rolling his shoulders and feeling his neck give a slight tinge; he hunched forward more over his papers and picked up his quill. It was time for the afternoon tally.

+

Lady Trevelyan slept for the next day and a half and Cullen figured with all she’d been through it was greatly needed. He was told she’d only briefly come to but was delirious and slightly feverish, mumbling about a dark road and a sharpened blade. Mother Giselle was helping see to her care personally and while Cullen found her to be trustworthy, he couldn’t help but secretly wonder as to her motives. Life in general had turned him into quite the cynic about certain things.

Thankfully though he didn’t need to wonder long because the Inquisitor returned at midday, riding his beautiful Red Hart and laughing at something Varric had just said.

Cullen and Leliana met him at the stables before he could even begin to unsaddle his horse.

“Inquisitor, how was the Emerald Graves?” Leliana inquired softly. “Did your mission bear fruit?”

Inquisitor Trevelyan grinned and nodded. “It did actually,” he replied in that deep, gravelly voice of his. “Fairbanks is safe and has decided to join our cause now that his people are taken care of. Oh Cullen I also have information for you on those smugglers. We fought some giants, planted a few flags and wandered into a haunted house. The usual.”

Leliana snorted but she was smiling. “I am happy to see you in a good mood. Especially considering the news I must give you.”

The Inquisitor arched a dark brow. “Oh? Don’t tell me another Archdemon attacked while I was gone.”

Cullen coughed lightly. “No Inquisitor but…” He shared a look with Leliana. “We have reason to believe your sister is now with us. That is a young woman showed up claiming to be your sister.”

The Inquisitor snorted. “All of my family is in the Free Marches and they wouldn’t journey here even if most actually do believe me to be the Herald of Andraste. Too dangerous.”

Leliana wet her lips. “Then you don’t have a sister that is a Mage? Elisabetta?”

All at once his shoulders stiffened and he took a step closer. “Elisabetta is here? Where is she? Is she alight? I want to see her at once.”

Leliana bowed her head and together they headed into Skyhold, walking quickly as conversation stopped all around them. It took no more than a minute to reach the Inquisitor’s quarters for he was all but running up the stairs. Once inside he gasped at the woman in his bed and hurried over; Mother Giselle had the good sense to move and not be trampled.

“Bet? Bet can you hear me?” Trevelyan whispered, taking her face between his large hands. “What happened to her?”

“We have reason to believe she tangled with a few Templars before finding her way here.” Leliana explained once Mother Giselle was out of earshot. “She was stabbed but the healers have been taking care of her. I gather she is your sister then?”

“Yes she is. She—she was sent to the Ostwick Circle when we were ten years old. I’ve seen her off and on however since then and we wrote constantly.” Trevelyan sighed deeply. “I thought she’d be with mother and father but I suppose I should have known better.”

Cullen moved around to the opposite side of the bed. “Inquisitor, do you have any idea why your sister would bear a mark similar to yours?” He gestured to her hand. “It cannot simply be blood relation.”

Leliana tapped her chin. “I shall go get Solas. Perhaps he can help shed light on the subject.”

The Inquisitor glanced to her as she left then returned his attention to his sister. “Maker’s breath I should have—I should have searched for her. The moment the Mages rebelled I should have said to hell with the Conclave and found my sister. If I had she wouldn’t be here in this state.”

Cullen watched him. “You sister seems to be a formidable woman. She managed to track you down and apparently fought off a Templar with only…minimal injury. We have been offering her the best care, Inquisitor. You have my word. I even posted guards outside to make sure no one disturbed her.” He paused. “I know it doesn’t mean much where the welfare of your family is concerned, but had you not been at the Conclave we’d probably be living in that warped future you and Dorian saw. Except there would be no do-overs.”

The Inquisitor sighed. “I just don’t want her to think I abandoned her. I would _never_ do that. Bet and I have always been close, maybe because we are the same age. We got into all sorts of trouble together—she’s my best friend.” Shaking his head, he reached onto the bowl of water on the bedside table and picked up the damp cloth, gently using it to dab at her forehead. “Bet, wake up or I will put slugs in your bedding again. The big meaty ones that are covered in slime. Remember how I did that once and you chased me around the manor with a large stick? Come on; Bet I know you can hear me.”

Several moments of silence passed and then his sister’s fingers twitched. 

“Elisabetta? That’s it open your eyes. It’s me, Lucian.”

Lady Trevelyan’s thick lashes fluttered like butterfly wings but very slowly her eyes opened; irises a warm hazel. She groaned, taking a second to focus. “I—what—Luci? Luci is that you?”

The Inquisitor grinned and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Of course it’s me. Who else would it be?”

She smiled at him. “I suppose either I made it to Skyhold or I’m dead and you’re a figment sent by the Maker. I—I think you’re too scruffy however for that to be possible.”

He laughed joyously. “I have missed you so much. Here.” He fluffed up the pillows and helped her to sit up and lean against them. “What are you doing _here_? Surely you knew how dangerous it would be for a Mage to travel. You should have gone home.”

Lady Trevelyan shrugged, wincing as she did. “Luci I have a splitting headache and everything is sore. I’m still not sure this is actually happening. Can we talk about my motives later?” Her hand came up to her throat, fingertips grazing lightly over the chaffed skin and Cullen could see the moment she remembered exactly what had happened. “I—who is this?”

Cullen stood straighter as the Inquisitor introduced him. “This is Commander Cullen Rutherford, my War Counselor. Commander may I present to you Elisabetta Trevelyan.”

“My Lady.” Cullen dipped his head forehead.

“You’re a Templar,” she said without inflection.

“Former.” Cullen replied. “I was a Knight-Commander but I have since given that and the Templars up since joining the Inquisition. My loyalty lies to them now and to your brother. You…have nothing to fear from me or any of the Templars here.”

“Cullen is a perfect gentleman.” The Inquisitor explained. “No one here will treat you as anything other than what you are. And considering you’re the _sister_ to the Herald of Andraste you’ll be just fine.”

“Alright.” She visibly relaxed. “And please Commander, it’s Elisabetta. Lady Trevelyan is our mother. So little brother…Herald of Andraste and Inquisitor. Our parents must be beside themselves with joy that you _finally_ managed to be connected to the Chantry in some way. Or what’s left of it.”

Cullen stood quietly and listened to their conversation though he didn’t want to be nosy. However he hadn’t been dismissed and he had to admit he was curious about the Inquisitor’s sister. Now awake he could see the resemblance between them; same black hair and honey colored skin, the same nose and full lips. Different colored eyes though. The Trevelyans were a certainly handsome family…

The Inquisitor opened his mouth to respond to his sister’s teasing when Solas’ bald head popped above the banister. “You sent for me?” His brow morphed into a frown and he made a beeline for Elisabetta’s left hand. “This—this is impossible. How did you come to have this?”

She blinked at him. “I—honestly I’m not sure. It just appeared a couple of months ago. I do know the rifts react to it and that sometimes it feels like it’ll engulf my entire hand in fire, which is neither pleasant nor unpleasant. But it doesn’t hurt and it hasn’t bothered me.”

In a way only Solas was wont to do, he examined Elisabetta’s hand and then grabbed the Inquisitor’s to do the same. “Remarkable. They are nearly identical except hers’ lacks the power yours does, Inquisitor. She cannot close rifts but I theorize it would—at least—be possible for her to slow demons that spawn from said rifts. Who is she to you?”

The Inquisitor grinned proudly. “My sister. Twin sister.”

Elisabetta smirked. “I’m older by three minutes. I never let him forget it.”

Solas’ expression dawned with comprehension. “Twins. You shared a womb—there is no lore on this but we live in an age when anything is possible. When the Inquisitor acquired the mark and started using it, somehow your connection as twins allowed you to do the same albeit not as severe. It’s as if the magic sought you out; another vessel to help contain it most likely due to your connection to the Fade as a Mage.” Pause. “I’d love to talk to you about being a twin when you’re feeling up to it. It may help me understand this more.”

The Inquisitor gestured to Solas. “This is Solas by the way, our resident expert on all things dealing with the veil and the Fade. He kept this mark from killing me.”

Elisabetta smiled rather tiredly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Elisabetta.”

Solas nodded. “I must go consult my books and write notes about this immediately. Inquisitor.” And then he was gone.

“I look forward to meeting the rest of your friends.” Elisabetta said on the back end of a yawn. “And to helping out once I have more energy. It’ll be nice to actually do more than study and keep young ones from setting tables on fire. We can finally catch up.”

“We’ll let you rest and have someone bring you some soup.” The Inquisitor patted her shoulder. “I’m sure I can find somewhere else to bed down for the night. But I’ll check on you later. We’ll talk.”

Cullen bowed slightly, feeling a little silly for it and made his way down towards the door with the Inquisitor following minutes later. 

“I can’t believe she’s here, that we get to spend time together again. It’s been ages.” The Inquisitor ruffled the hair at the back of his head. “Mother didn’t let her come home as much as either of us had liked.”

Cullen didn’t wish to pry but he couldn’t help but be curious. “When was the last time you saw each other?”

The Inquisitor leaned against the stone wall. “Last Satinalia. In typical fashion she and my mother got into an argument and we spent the rest of her time home elsewhere. They love each other it’s just a volatile situation I suppose. Bet is the only girl so before her magic manifested there had been plans for fortunate marriages or perhaps she’d become a Chantry sister. Neither of which Bet was particularly interested in at that age. Did you know she’s the first Mage in the family in generations? I thought it was rather brilliant but…”

 _But the stigma of being a Mage or having a Mage child is prominent even among nobles. Maybe even especially among nobles._ “I’m sure she’s appreciated your support throughout the years.”

He hummed, fingers curling into a loose fist. “Yeah, I just wish I could have done more. I can’t believe she has a mark because of…whatever happened to me at the Conclave. I’d never even considered it. By the Maker, all of this is just insane and getting more so by the day. Heh. Anyway were you the one to find my sister?”

“In a sense. Scout Jim found her and alerted me after the mark was discovered on her hand. Leliana found two notes in her belongings, one addressed to you and that’s how we came to know her identity. Then I carried her into your quarters where she could be properly looked after,” Cullen explained.

The Inquisitor smiled at that. “Thank you.” He then fell a bit somber. “I saw the marks on her throat, heard the strain in her voice. She came so close to death and I would have never known. Perhaps never found her body. I’ve seen a lot of death since all of this began Cullen, and it’s been utterly heart breaking. _So_ many bodies. The stories I’ve heard… In the Hinterlands I found this scrap of paper from a hunter and what he witnessed a Templar attempt to do to a dying Mage and it’s just all so fucked up. And…I have to go out and see more when we venture to Crestwood in a few days.”

His melancholy was palpable and Cullen could relate. “I know it seems as if everything is terrible but you _are_ making a difference Inquisitor. The people flock to Skyhold to see _you_ because you are the Herald but they would only follow a Herald that is _truly_ making a difference. Every rift you close, every bandit or Red Templar you destroy means someone out there is safer. Means a mother won’t be losing a child. Do not lose heart; we are doing good work here.”

The Inquisitor exhaled deeply. “Thank you Cullen. And hey, the Maker saw fit to send me my sister so maybe he is pleased with what I’m doing. In any case I need a meal and a hot bath if one can be found. I guess I should also tell Dorian about Elisabetta; she’ll want to meet him for sure. A Tevinter Mage will no doubt pique her interest.” As he began to walk away he called back, “I’ll have a Scout deliver the smuggler information to your office soon. I think you’ll be pleased.”

Josephine’s words drifted back to the forefront of Cullen’s mind as he lazily made his way into the throne room and out the front doors. It was easy to forget the Herald—or Inquisitor if you preferred—was just a man because he was doing some pretty amazing things. He was the only person who could close rifts. He’d closed a giant Breach in the sky and he’d helped quell an entire rebellion by stopping a Tevinter Magister from hurling the world into decay. Whether he was touched by Andraste or not he was a living, breathing person with feelings and emotions.

As his advisors they needed to remember this and react accordingly. Help keep his morale up.

“Hey Curly, is what they’re saying true? The Inquisitor’s wife is here?”

Cullen snorted hard. “She’s his wife now, is she?”

Varric shrugged smoothly. “Just relating what I’ve heard so far. Would explain why Sparkles was pouting as he made his way towards the library. All that flirting ending up nowhere.”

Chuckling, Cullen shook his head. “The young lady is the Inquisitor’s twin sister, Elisabetta. She’s a Mage from the Ostwick Circle. I’m sure you’ll be meeting her soon enough. She seems…eager to join the cause.”

“The Inquisitor has a _sister_. And here I thought he’d been brought to life by Andraste herself,” Varric joked. “At least that is how the people talk about him.”

“Well…they are searching for meaning in these difficult times and the Herald brings that.” Cullen replied easily. “I won’t begrudge them any type of solace; Maker knows I could use a bit of my own.”

Varric folded his arms across his hairy chest. “I don’t want to pry into your business but how _have_ you been? Shit got tough there at the end in Kirkwall and I heard you stuck around for a while, trying to help restore order. I should have asked before now but there hasn’t seemed to be enough time to take a shit let alone have a deep conversation.”

Cullen cracked a tiny smile at his choice of words. “I am…managing. I know you still consider it your home but leaving Kirkwall and the Order has been what I needed. Commanding the Inquisition’s forces has been good for me though in a perfect world there would be no need.”

Varric grunted. “All things considered I’d rather have you putting boots on the ground than anyone else.”

As far as endorsements went, it wasn’t half bad. “How has Hawke been?”

That made Varric’s demeanor lighten up a bit. “Good, good. Was minding her own business and helping Fenris hunt down Tevinter slavers until this mess with the Conclave happened. And yes I’ve known where she was this entire time but I wasn’t about to get her mixed up in anything again. If the nut job wanting to end the world wasn’t Corypheus I wouldn’t have brought her in.”

Cullen gazed out across the courtyard. “I understand Cassandra was…upset that you weren’t forthcoming but I understand your reservations. All that matters now is stopping Corypheus.”

“Yeah. Easy.” Varric shook his head before meandering back inside to the fireplace.

They were such an odd hodge podge of people, brought together by circumstances beyond their control. But perhaps that’s why things were—so far—going well. Each person brought their strengths and balanced out each others’ weaknesses.

_We may just win this if we commit one hundred percent. All of us. No job is too small._

_I should add more training rotations and test a few of the men myself. Perhaps Cassandra would be willing to help as well. Can’t hurt to ask._

+

Snuggled down into the comfort of her brother’s bed, Elisabetta pushed away the half empty bowl of broth and exhaled deeply. It hurt to swallow and it hurt to move but she supposed it could be worse. She could be a rotting corpse on the King’s Road or something just as dramatic. She’d known reaching Lucian would be hazardous but nothing could have prepared her for actually attempting it. The world was such a big, wide place though it had seemed quite small while in the Ostwick Circle. Even on visits home she hadn’t been allowed to venture far from the town she grew up in; had to be supervised by someone else at all times.

Ostwick had remained neutral on the vote to dissolve the Circles. Life there had been boring but calm so no one really had any desire to leave, at least not in the way others probably did. Confinement wasn’t fun no matter how sedate but she and her fellow Mages were more…resigned to their fate. No one had expected Kirkwall to implode and then a full scale rebellion to follow afterwards. By the time other Circles were on fire the Templars of Ostwick were more than restless to really test out their abilities. So they left.

_And we were left alone with several hard decisions to make._

At first the idea of adventuring had appeared quite fun and for a while things had been peaceful. She’d left the Circle with six friends, traveling as far as they could together before being forced to go their separate ways. Elisabetta wasn’t sure what had become of her fellow Mages but she prayed to the Maker that they were safe. That they hadn’t run into crazy Templars or dangerous bandits. Perhaps when there was a moment she’d ask Lucian to check in on them if he could. Bad news would break her heart but it was better than nothing.

Going home had been her first option but the longer they traveled the more she realized that was a horrible idea. She loved her parents dearly but since manifesting as a Mage things hadn’t been the same. They didn’t see _her_ anymore, they just saw a Mage. It was like a gift from the Maker to hear a _Trevelyan_ was being called the Herald of Andraste; she’d known almost immediately it was Lucian. Maxwell was sitting comfortable in his Chantry appointment and Vincent wouldn’t have set foot in a Conclave for peace talks with Mages even _with_ the Divine overseeing them. So naturally that left her twin, probably roped into the whole ordeal by their mother’s incessant whining. Lucian had always been her champion so making her way to him just made sense.

Then news came that Haven had been completely destroyed by—of all things—an Archdemon and she’d been at a loss as to what to do. Camped out under the stars for a few nights, rationing her food and basically staying hidden while planning and plotting. By the time murmurs of Skyhold and a new Inquisitor reached her ears she’d been seriously considering seeking asylum anywhere she could. Yet apparently the Herald was alive and with a wonderful new fortress to boot. Maker be praised!

Heavy footsteps pulled her out of her thoughts and she smiled as Lucian came into view, stopping to poke at the fire. “Don’t you have people for that now?”

He chuckled. “I do but even they deserve a day off. So…” He came over and plopped down on the foot of the bed. “Ready for that awkward chat now?”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re not going to boss me around just because you were _touched_ by Andraste. I won’t be calling you Herald or Inquisitor either.”

Lucian grinned. “I hadn’t thought for a second you would.” Idly he reached out and squeezed her hand. “Are you alright?”

Elisabetta nodded slowly. “I’m alive. I survived the wilds and made my way to you.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he inquired. “How you were…injured?”

“I think it’s pretty self explanatory.” She touched her wound; it was less severe thanks to the potions she’d been given. “I ran afoul of a Templar who knew almost immediately that I was a Mage. I tried to tell him that I hadn’t rebelled or harmed anyone but he wasn’t in the mood for talking. He—I was defending myself. But you know what Templars are bred to do. When his sword missed its target, he attempted to finish the job with his bare hands.”

“Bastard. Please tell me you set him on fire or something,” he said frowning. “Electrocuted him.”

“I used electricity to stop his heart,” she admitted. “He…gasped and turned blue. I’d never killed anyone before that day.”

“Unfortunately it gets easier. I’ve been cutting a bloody path through Templars, apostates, bandits and mercenaries since becoming the Herald. You shouldn’t feel bad for defending yourself, Bet. If that asshole was still alive I’d hunt him down and judge him for what he tried to do to you. Execute him myself.”

“Technically he was just doing what he’d been trained to do I suppose.”

“Templars weren’t trained to mercilessly murder their charges. They were supposed to be guardians and protectors.”

“Mm.”

“So…Josephine has already sent a carrier to our parents to let them know you are safe. And Leliana has an agent en route to Ostwick to see if he can’t find your phylactery. She feels it would be better off in our hands or destroyed completely. I agree with her. You can meet them both when you’re up to it.”

“I am at a loss as to all of this.”

Lucian grinned. “It does take some getting used to. I have so much responsibility here. Everywhere to be honest. People are looking to me to reshape Thedas. I _met_ King Alistair. Briefly but it still counts _and_ then he sent a letter asking me for help against evil agents.”

Elisabetta’s brows lifted towards her hairline. “You _met_ the King of Ferelden? The man who helped stop the Fifth Blight? Is he as handsome are everyone says he is? Was the Queen with him? Did they really look desperately in love?”

Lucian chuckled. “He is very handsome and was quite…forceful. I was thoroughly impressed. I wish we could have talked but after what the rebel Mages had allowed happen to his Uncle, he just wanted everyone gone. And no the Queen wasn’t with him. Rumor is she’s off on some special secret Grey Warden mission.”

Like everyone else Elisabetta was very familiar with the tale of Warden Alistair and the Hero of Ferelden who’d gathered together an army and fought back the darkspawn. She’d found the story seriously romantic, especially the part about Alistair—the bastard son of King Maric—and Isabella Cousland falling in love and then getting married. Becoming the rulers of Ferelden after a yearlong adventure filled with danger and turmoil. For someone like her, locked away in a tower, daydreaming about embarking on her own adventure was all she had sometimes.

“I wish I could have seen him.” Elisabetta blushed. “Fourteen year old me is screaming inside.”

“Hah well he may put in an appearance here if he has time. You never know. In any case the important thing is that you’re safe and we can finally go back to being a team.” Lucian smiled happily. “And you don’t have to worry about anyone coming to take you _home_. This is your home now.”

 _That sounds lovely._ “Do the Templars here really not monitor the Mages?”

Lucian shook his head. “Nope. Everyone is expected to behave and if there is an issue they come to me. So far we haven’t had any disagreements or fights. Everyone realizes there is a greater threat.”

Elisabetta tilted her head to the side and studied her brother for a moment. He appeared to be in good health but it was obvious he held the weight of the world on his strong shoulders. “How are you handling all of this? Really?”

He allowed himself to fall backwards, legs hanging over the side of the bed. “I’m…it’s not easy but every win helps. I like that I’m making things safer for farmer and what have you. The bigger stuff is a bit daunting but it has to be done. I’m fairly secure in my sense of right and wrong so as long as that remains I _probably_ won’t go crazy. I also have excellent advisors helping me.” He glanced to his hand. “Wielding any type of magic when you’re not a Mage is odd but it allows me to close rifts so…”

She looked at her own hand. “This mark. Is it a gift from Andraste?”

He made a face. “I don’t remember what happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. But Haven was destroyed by a darkspawn Magister named Corypheus and he claimed my mark—the Anchor—was supposed to be his. Solas says the artifact that gave me the mark is Elvin in origin so how Corypheus got it is anyone’s guess. The main thing is he obviously wants us all dead so we have to make sure that doesn’t happen. So I’m going to need your help.”

She snickered. “Naturally. I am at your service, _Inquisitor_.”

Hitting at her leg, he rose up onto his elbows. “We’ll have to find you some clothes and I’ll make you a staff myself. Just in case. You should see some of the things I’ve found on my travels; people leave their valuables just _laying_ around.”

Elisabetta giggled. “You mean you haven’t been running around picking locks?” He winked and she laughed again. “A staff would be nice though. I’ve studied defensive magic—fireballs and things—and I’m decent with a barrier.”

Lucian nodded. “Feel free to practice as long as you don’t burn the place down. Or do, Solas may very well have another Skyhold in his pocket.”

Elisabetta pointed to the hairbrush resting on the mantle and smiled when he got up to retrieve it for her. She was sure her hair looked like a black bird’s nest. “I won’t chance it. Will I also be going out with you to do…whatever it is you do?”

His pause was but a second but she saw it anyway. “Bet, I don’t know if that is a good idea. It’s not that I don’t trust you and your abilities I just…it’s extremely dangerous out there. I _just_ got you back. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you for good.”

Taking the brush from him, she grumbled but she could understand where he was coming from. And yet… “I don’t want to be kept here like I’m made of glass. Otherwise how is Skyhold any better than Ostwick?”

“You’re not confined to Skyhold. There are other things you could do besides walk into the belly of the beast with me,” he explained. “If you really wanted you could accompany scouts on retrieval missions or help Josephine with Ambassador missions. Just—how about you heal completely before we go off hunting darkspawn on the Storm Coast?”

“Alright. But we shall revisit this conversation again once I am one hundred percent better.”

“You have my word. Heh I shouldn’t be surprised you want to dive right in. I know you like the back of my hand and it’s exactly how I would be. How I was.”

“It’s not excitement I am craving; I just wish to do my part. For so long I was told when or how to use my magic, yet what better way to _actually_ use it than protecting my little brother?”

Lucian’s face grew soft and he crawled into bed beside her, stretching out his legs and wrapping his arm slowly around her shoulders so as not to aggravate her wound. “We’ll protect each other. Deal?”

Resting her head to his chest, she sighed and closed her eyes, feeling wholly content for the first time in a long time. “Deal.”


End file.
